


Teen Ōkami

by toiletwithaview



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Japan, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-03-21 13:09:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3693464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toiletwithaview/pseuds/toiletwithaview
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>UPDATE: Abandoned. Sorry.</p>
<p>“Hey, Ōkami, think we’ll make it to Kōshien this year?”<br/>“Stop calling me that. That’s not my name.”<br/>“Only if you stop growling all the time. Or maybe I should call you Ōgumi, you big gummy bear.”<br/>“Why can’t you just call me sempai like a normal person?”<br/>“If that is your wish, <i>sempai~~~</i>”<br/>“...forget I said anything.”</p>
<p>The Japanese high school fic nobody asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sour Gummy

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've posted, so any criticism is welcome. Unbeta'd, sorry. You don't need to know Japanese to read the story, you just have to be able to deal with some words that are 15 characters long (like Stiles' last name). I'll note any Japanese terms at the beginning.
> 
> Kōshien – national high school baseball tournament, imagine the NCAA, but high school and baseball  
> Ōkami – wolf  
> Ō-gumi – ō, big; gumi, gummy  
> Sempai – someone who is older than you/in a grade above you  
> Shichimi – a mix of spices used in soup and noodles; sold in small bottles  
> Ramen – wheat noodles in pork bone soup, served with sliced meat, dried seaweed, and green onions; tends to be very salty and greasy (the Sheriff/Police Chief has hypertension and ramen is his favourite food)
> 
> Cultural note: high school in Japan is three years. Derek/Osamu is in his last year, while Stiles/Satoshi is in second.
> 
> No Sterek until Chapter 3, because I'm a terrible person.

“Hey, Ōkami, think we’ll make it to Kōshien this year?”

“Stop calling me that. That’s not my name.”

“Only if you stop growling all the time. Or maybe I should call you Ōgumi, you big gummy bear.”

“Why can’t you just call me sempai like a normal person?”

“If that is your wish, _sempai~~~_ ”

“...forget I said anything.”

It’s the first weekend of April. School had just started and coach Hino would be holding baseball tryouts on Monday. But in a small town like Noroshioka, the team lineup is nothing if not predictable. Case in point: Osamu Kamiya, or, as Satoshi calls him, Ōkami. There’s no way the towering third-year student wouldn’t be team captain this year; his athletic ability bordered on the supernatural. But then again, maybe that’s to be expected from someone who’s mixed-race.

Compared to him, well... second-year student Satoshi Shichirinotsuki is stumbling through puberty and life in general. He's grown to an impressive height over the past year, but it’s translated into a hopeless clumsiness that in no way hinders his popularity at school – because people already avoid him like the plague. And that’s alright, because he has the company of Ōkami, who’s become the stuff of school legend, and Sohei Musashi, who’s been his best friend since elementary school.

Except Sohei had apparently found true love yesterday at the school assembly. The new transfer, Yoshika Shirogane, is “the girl of destiny”, according to Sohei. And in need of a library card and a tour of the neighbourhood. So instead of getting some practice in before the start of the season, it’s just him and the grumpy senior playing catch.

He runs a finger over the worn red stitching on the ball in his hand before lobbing it across to the pitcher’s mound where Kamiya is standing.

“Seriously though, you think we have a chance at the championship?”

“Not if you’re throwing the ball like that. Is that the best you can do, _Shichimi_?”

“Hah! That’s your comeback? Ramen spice? You know that’s what everyone else calls me in the first place. You’d know if you weren’t such a recluse. Anyway, I’m only going easy on you on account of your advanced age, _sempai_.”

“I’m 17, barely a year older than you.”

“And this time next year you’ll be in university, mourning the loss of your youth. You can already feel the life being sapped from your veins, can’t you? Or wait, are you working for your family after high school?”

The senior doesn’t answer, but instead shifts his stance and goes for a proper pitch. Satoshi catches the ball easily but winces, his hand feeling like it’s going to bruise from the force behind the ball. He said something wrong, but what? He teases the senior all the time and doesn’t get this kind of response. He hides his frown behind his glove and returns the throw at a similar strength.

Kamiya catches the ball – a solid thwack coming from his glove – and grumbles something under his breath. He does that a lot, as if he thinks other people can hear him. It’s part of the reason people find him unapproachable.

“Words, Ōkami, use them!”

“We’re going to Kōshien this year. I’m sure of it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scraps from an abandoned fic.
> 
> “Ugggh, I hate you. I’m going to go home now and spend the rest of the night obsessed with finding out the answer. I’m going to be completely distracted. I’ll probably stay up all night. I won’t be able to study and I’ll be sleep-deprived and I’m going to fail my English test tomorrow because every word will remind me of you and that failure is going to shake my confidence so severely that I’ll go on to flunk all my university entrance exams. In my shame, I’m going to run away to Tokyo and because my natural insubordination means I won't be able to hold down a job, I'll become a vagrant and live in Ueno park. One night, you’ll leave dinner at a 10,000-yen-a-plate Edo-mae sushi restaurant in a two-piece Hugo Boss suit and see me shuffling towards the back door to see if they throw out anything, maybe some scrap akami tuna if I’m lucky that night, and our eyes will meet but you won’t say anything before you get in your Kamui Eternal Black Toyota Century and say to your driver, ‘I thought I recognized that hobo. He reminded me of a high school classmate I used to torment. I sometimes wonder if things would have gone differently for him if I had _just answered his question_.’”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, below is what I managed to get through for the fic that I started back in April. I'm embarrassingly bad at writing fluff (hence the not touching it for three months). It's all unbeta'd, unedited.

“Want to go to the Yamazaki? My treat this time.”

“Can we go to the Family Mart instead? They have a _Persona_ promotion right now.”

“But the food is better at the Yamazaki.”

“Fine. But only because you’re buying. I don’t understand how you can eat so much. I joke about it, but sometimes I really think you’re a–”

“Don’t say it.”

“ _Wolf_ ,” he said in English instead.

“At least your pronunciation is good.”

“You’re the worst.”

* * *

“Hey, Ō– Kamiya, if I show you something, could you read it?”

“Sure, what is it?”

He held out the folded-up piece of paper he’d ripped from his notebook. _Oh man, this is it. Please don’t kill me._

“This is… a love confession letter? I’ve heard about them before… This kanji character, it’s missing a stroke. You must be serious though, I’ve never seen your writing so neat before.”

“Yup. You know me. Serious about everything,” he said, taking the note back, hoping his red face would be interpreted as simple embarrassment. _This was so stupid. Of course he wouldn’t get it. This is that “friendzone” we were talking about in class last week._ He moved to shove it in his pocket. But Kamiya reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“Whoa, you don’t want to crumple it.”

“Right. Thanks.”

“So who’s the intended recipient? Someone I know?”

“Kamiya,” _it’s you_ , he wanted to say, but instead his mouth supplied, “there are only three hundred people in this school, of course you know them.”

“Hmm, it's Machino, right?” Satoshi wanted to scream. He hadn’t talked about his childhood crush in years. Not since he met Kamiya, now that he thought about it. Sohei, that traitor must have mentioned it to him. “Something about her being the perfect combination of beauty and intelligence, that her everyday life was worthy of manga, movie, and television drama?”

“...you’re right. That’s correct. No mistakes. Full marks.” He was going to throttle Sohei next time he saw him.

“Seems strange that you’d compliment her athletic ability though. I didn’t know she was on a sports team. Is she part of the kendo club or something?”

“Yeah… or something.”

“Well, if you’re going to give it to her, she’s coming this way.”

“She what–?” He spun around. There she was, Michie Machino, head of class 2-A, vice-president of student council, radiant even in a school uniform. She really was the perfect combination of beauty and intelligence, anyone would want to be with her. Except for him. No, he had to fall in love with the tall, moody idiot who wouldn’t know a love confession if it was shoved in his face and…

“Come on, you’re not going to chicken out now? She’ll totally be moved by your sincerity. Hell, I read it and I wish it was for me.”

_Oh, fuck you Kamiya. You do not get to say shit like that._ Satoshi turned around to give the stupid senior a piece of his mind, but suddenly found himself being pushed into the middle of the hallway.

“Thank me later!” Kamiya said, giving a thumbs-up.

He imagined burning a hole straight through Kamiya’s stupid face with the intense heat of his glare. All it got him was an encouraging smile.

“Shichirinotsuki,” came an unimpressed voice from beside him.

“Machino! Hey, um, I was just, you know, going to–” he said, flailing a little, okay, a lot. He was going to trip over his own feet and fall over any minute in front of everyone and then this utter fuck-up of a day would be complete. He’d have to change schools. Maybe move overseas just to escape the PTSD this place would trigger. But no, destiny had something worse in store.

Machino snatched the note from his hand.

“For me, Shichirinotsuki?” she asked, already reading it.

“Gah! No...t really?” _Fuck! Everyone’s looking. She’s going to laugh in my face. She’s going to take a picture of it and send it to everyone in the school. “Look at what weirdo Satoshi just gave me. What a freak!” And there was even a mistake on one of the kanji! He was a social pariah; academics was all he had left. Fuck. Fuck!_ “Just, um, that is, I was going to–”

“Meet me in the music classroom after school. Alone.”

And with that, Machino brushed by, posse in tow. Wait. What the fuck?

“What just happened?” he asked no-one in particular.

“She wants to meet you, that’s great!”

“Yeah… great!”

“You don’t seem happy.”

“I don’t know why she wants to meet me.”

“You just confessed your love and she accepted your letter, so what do you think is going to happen? Cheer up!”

* * *

The music room was eerily silent. She was already there, waiting.

“Machino, I have to explain, the confession–”

“Wasn’t meant for me. That was obvious. You know I’m dating Hidemori and besides, it’s obvious you’re talking about a guy. Based on your social circle, there’s only one person it could be,” she said, shoving the note at his chest. “You know, back in junior high I would have ripped up your note and told you off. But because you’ve been mostly tolerable for the last two years, I’ll give you some advice: Just. Tell. Him.”

She gave him a quick, sympathetic smile. It was the most she’d ever said to him. Two years ago he would have been overjoyed. But now he was just relieved.

“Thank you, Machino.”

“ _Good luck_ ,” she said in English, patting him on the arm. She brushed past him (that was apparently a thing for her) and rejoined the other students in the noisy hallway.

“Just tell him?” he asked the empty room.

* * *

It was raining. Kamiya had a family thing. Yoshika’s aunt was visiting. So they were at Sohei’s house playing _Smash Bros_.

“I heard you confessed to Machino. I can’t believe I missed it!”

“I’m not surprised. You’ve been… busy lately.”

“Oh man, Yoshika’s so nice! She got me this sweater as a thank-you for showing her around.”

“My point exactly.”

“You’d like her,” he said and Satoshi was sure if he looked over he’d see heart eyes and that stupid dopey smile the love-struck goof always wore these days. It took a while before Sohei remembered the topic at hand: “Wait, so I heard Machino spoke to you after school. What did she say?”

“Nothing important.”

“Come on, I’m your best friend, you’re supposed to tell me these things.”

“Well, the thing is nothing happened. She’s still dating Hidemori. I’m still single.”

“That sucks. Well, at least you have me. And Kamiya, even if he’s really scary.”

“Yeah, about Kamiya…”

“Oh? Did something happen with him? Did he confess to someone? Man, that’d be so weird. Oh wait, was it a guy?”

“What?” Satoshi spun his head to look at his best friend, leaving Pikachu to plummet to an untimely death. Whatever, he was three points ahead and it was at 240% damage anyway. Sohei was a lot of things, but insightful he was not. He couldn’t connect the dots if you numbered them and drew arrows between them. If he thought Kamiya could be gay, then it must have been obvious to anyone with two braincells to rub together. Except Satoshi had no idea. He needed more. More words to fall out of his best friend’s face hole.

“Well, girls keep hitting on him but he’s never gone out with anyone.”

“Do they? I showed him my confession letter and he said he’s never gotten one.”

“You showed him? But you didn’t show me! What did you write? Do you still have it?” Sohei half-shouted, indignant at being left out of the loop.

“Yeah, no, I tore it up and we won’t talk about it, ever.” Which was a lie, he’d smoothed it back out and tucked it into his English textbook, where it will languish forever, like Ms. Havisham’s wedding cake.

“I’m sorry, man. Must suck to like someone who doesn’t care.”

Satoshi returned his attention to the game. Sohei had taken advantage of the situation and had put himself up a point, but Satoshi wasn’t focused on the game anymore, not when his best friend had suddenly manifested a savant-like ability to analyze the guy he was crushing on. Sohei, however, had forgotten about their segue and said nothing more on the subject.

“So, Kamiya... You think he’s gay?” Satoshi said after a while, totally nailing a nonchalant delivery.

“I dunno, he’s from, like, America. They do gay marriage and stuff like that, right?” Sohei offered, suddenly more idiot than savant. Whatever brief flash of brilliance had sparked inside his mind was gone, overwhelmed by a thick miasma of stupid, a deluge of “how do you continue to draw breath?”

“You... really don’t understand how homosexuality works, do you?”

“Sure I do, dicks and butts and like, leather vests, right? Like Hard Gay?”

“Sure.” Satoshi would facepalm but he was determined not to lose to the dumbass sitting beside him. It was a point of honour now.

“I’m cool with gay people. Asagiri’s gay, and we talk all the time.”

“I– How… Good for you?”

“Just saying. Being gay, it’s kinda weird, but I hang out with you and Kamiya and you’re both pretty weird people and sure, I don’t hang out with him as much as you do but I’ve gotten used to– holy shit, you like Kamiya.” Sohei said, with a surprising lack of inflection or drama. It was unsettling, how these astute observations keep tumbling out of nowhere, as if the words emerge from his tongue fully formed but without a single conscious thought behind them. Brain tumour, Satoshi guessed, causing sporadic synaptic cascades or something like that.

Sohei paused the game, which meant they were going to Talk About It. Satoshi sighed, there was no dodging Sohei when he made his mind up about something.

“Yeah, so, about that…” Satoshi trailed off, trying to delay the inevitable. But Sohei was having none of it.

“You showed him the confession letter because it was for him. But you didn’t tell him it was for him? And then he thought it was for Machino?”

“Yeah,” Satoshi nodded, wondering if Yoshika had implanted a chip in Sohei’s brain to make him smarter, with the side effect of him drooling slightly whenever he thought of her. “I never told him about my crush on Machino, by the way. So thanks a lot for that.”

“You didn’t? But she was all you talked about… until high school. Huh, how long have you liked him?”

“I don’t know! It just… kind of happened the other day.”

“Well, are you going to set him straight?”

“There’s no point. Like you said, people hit on him all the time and he doesn’t care.”

“Yeah, but what if he’s been waiting for the right person to confess their love?”

“You have been watching way too many romantic movies.”

“That’s it. I’ve decided,” Sohei started, his voice taking on a dramatic edge usually reserved for end-of-episode cliffhanger do-or-die declarations.

“Oh man… don’t do this.”

“I’m going to help you win Kamiya’s heart.”

“Fuck my life.”

* * *

Kamiya was telling him about his weekend. It was a family tradition – they’d pack up once a month and go out to the country. Like a camping trip, except instead of sleeping in tents, they’d walk around in the forest, spending the night under the light of the full moon. Kamiya was in the middle of describing Katsura’s freak-out after running straight into a giant spiderweb when all of a sudden he was knocked into Satoshi, their heads bumping together painfully.

“Oh shit, sorry! I’m late for work!” came Sohei’s breathless apology as he barrelled down the hall.

Satoshi was surprised he hadn’t fallen down but then he became aware of the arm around his waist, the strong hand at the small of his back, the firm chest pressing against his own. Oh. This was nice. He felt all warm and fuzzy. Maybe he’d gotten a concussion. Maybe this was a hallucination, because there was no way Kamiya was holding him like this, like a boyfriend would. Except he was. And yeah, this was nice.

“Hey Shichimi, remember to call me about _that thing_ later!” Sohei shouted from the end of the hallway, punctuating it with an exaggerated wink. Real subtle, Sohei.

There was a quiet rumbling against his chest. Oh right. _That thing_ was happening right now.

“Kamiya?” he said, forcing himself to look up, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. He tried to disentangle himself from the embrace – because that’s what it was – but his limbic system was still recovering from the shock of almost being knocked over. Or because he could feel people staring at the two of them now, specifically, their physical configuration and that inspired panic and complete loss of motor function.

“Are you okay, Satoshi? You look dazed.”

“Yeah, just fine,” he muttered, looking away, suddenly out of breath. “Uh, you can let go of me, I can stand.”

“Okay. Are you sure you don’t want to go to the nurse’s office? Your heart’s racing.”

“Just a bit surprised.” _And freaking out that we’re close enough you can feel that._

“Come on, I’ll walk you home. You probably shouldn’t be riding your bike right now.”

“Really, you don’t have to–” He suddenly caught the glare of what seemed like everyone in school. Getting the hell out of there was a good idea. And having Kamiya for moral support, a very good idea. “I mean, if you’re going home anyway, I guess we can walk together.” His stomach rumbled. Apparently the proceedings had had zero effect on his appetite. “Can we stop by Family Mart though?”

“Yamazaki. I’ll buy.”

“You’re the worst.”

* * *

“Wait, is this… Is this kabe-don? Is this happening right now?”

“Shichimi, what are you talking about?”

“Kabe-don. You know, that thing where the guy comes up to the girl and pushes her against a wall–”

“I push you against a wall all the time.”

“Which is something else we should discuss. But anyway, girl’s backed into a wall and then the guy puts his arm out to kind of… get her attention? Trap her? Kind of like what you’re doing? And then he leans in and–”

“I’m bracing myself. Last time we were talking like this, Sohei bumped into me and knocked our heads together. Did you forget? I can still see the bruise on your forehead.”

“Oh… right.” That was a structurally sound response to Sohei’s intervention. The Line conversation between the two second-year students that night was… animated. Mainly a lot of freaking out on Satoshi’s part. About what had happened that day. The easy conversation on the walk home. The lingering look that Kamiya had given him when they got to Satoshi’s house. And the thought that he’d have to make it through the entire school year with this looming over his head.

“So…” Kamiya started, breaking Satoshi out of his thoughts.

“So…?”

“Right, I was going to ask if you’d be free on Sunday. My mom’s organizing a hanami picnic and she asked me to invite you and your father.”

“Oh, um, yeah! Sure. Of course. Sounds like fun!”

Ōkami was not impressed. Satoshi knew that look. It said, “The truth. Tell me. Now.” He got it a lot from Kamiya, and his police chief father of course. He was so used to that look it had lost all power, but at this distance, the intense glare made his mind go places. Places unsuitable for his current situation, in a school hallway packed with other students, wearing a school uniform and underwear that was a bit ratty and old and loose from worn-out elastic bands and were normally comfortable and roomy and the best thing ever but right now were bad. Terribly, devastatingly bad. His jacket, his books, everything he could cover his rapidly growing boner with were back in the classroom and at this distance, close enough to feel the senior's breath against his lips, if he moved just a bit closer– and nope, nope, nope, fuck his life.

“I’m just... surprised! At the invitation. From you. She, your mom, uh, usually sends those pretty handwritten cards, that's why.”

“She is!” He backed away suddenly. The statement seemed to have caught him off guard. For a brief moment, Kamiya was the one who looked flustered. ”Uh, it’s going to be a bunch of adults and she ‘doesn’t want the kids to get bored’, so she asked me to ask you, in case you didn’t want to.”

“Do _you_ want to do something else?”

“It’s my mom’s picnic, I have to go.”

“Yeah, but what do you _want to do_?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m going to the picnic anyway.”

“But I want to know, Ō-ka-mi.”

“I’m definitely not telling you now, if you’re teasing me.”

“Ugggh, I hate you. I’m going to go home now and spend the rest of the night obsessed with finding out the answer. I’m going to be completely distracted. I’ll probably stay up all night. I won’t be able to study and I’ll be sleep-deprived and I’m going to fail my English test tomorrow because every word will remind me of you and that failure is going to shake my confidence so severely that I’ll go on to flunk all my university entrance exams. In my shame, I’m going to run away to Tokyo and because my natural insubordination means I won't be able to hold down a job, I'll become a vagrant and live in Ueno park. One night, you’ll leave dinner at a 10,000-yen-a-plate Edo-mae sushi restaurant in a two-piece Hugo Boss suit and see me shuffling towards the back door to see if they throw out anything, maybe some scrap akami tuna if I’m lucky that night, and our eyes will meet but you won’t say anything before you get in your Kamui Eternal Black Toyota Century and say to your driver, ‘I thought I recognized that hobo. He reminded me of a high school classmate I used to torment. I sometimes wonder if things would have gone differently for him if I had _just answered his question_.’” He secretly hoped someone recorded his rant on video because dammit, he made it through without taking a breath and they should be showering him with praise and awarding him with a medal, maybe a trophy and certificate, ask him to repeat his spiel at the next student assembly.

“You won’t fail English.”

“You– Is that the only thing you got? Out of everything I just said?” His arms may have flailed a bit. His right hand may have struck Kamiya's arm. Hard enough to bruise, he was guessing. But he'd given him oratory gold and the sheer lack of appreciation, well, he deserved to be injured by the physical manifestation of his indignation.

“I prefer yakitori over sashimi.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

Kamiya looked away for a moment, as if checking for others who may be watching them, then looked down and said to his feet, “...I like to go for walks. In the forest. Just by myself.”

“What? How is that even…”

“Your question. What I want to do.”

_Oh_. “So you like to be anti-social and alone.”

“You could come, if you want. But like I was saying, there’s no point in talking about this. I’ll be at the hanami picnic on Sunday. That’s it.”

“No. I’ll go to the picnic, we’ll _mi_ the crap out of the _hana_ for like 30 minutes, and then I’ll ask your mother to let you go take a walk with me. See, problem solved. You should have told me in the first place. I’m a genius.”

“I think I might prefer to stay at the picnic, now that I think about it.”

“Fine! See if I ever help you again!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't touched it since April, since it was always a fluffy side project that suddenly caught my brain because I was building a Japanese fic setting for something more serious. And also because I know nothing about baseball in general, much less baseball in Japan.  
> Todo (if I were to finish this fic):  
> -flashback chapter (50% done)  
> -cherry blossom viewing (Stiles/Satoshi finds out Derek/Kamiya is a werewolf)  
> -spring baseball games (Stiles decides not to distract Derek with a relationship)  
> -summer baseball games (they make it to the third round at Koshien, but most players are exhausted/injured, and they are eliminated, despite Derek pitching perfectly, Sterek happens)  
> -epilogue

**Author's Note:**

> Originally I was going to do a straight-up reinterpretation of S01E01 with a Japanese setting, but then I was rewatching The Girl who Leapt Through Time and decided to write a fluffy 5+1 instead. I don't speak Japanese fluently, so it's entirely possible there are instances of impossible utterances in the dialogue.
> 
> The names, if you're interested, are as follows (given name then family name):  
> Derek – 神谷 修 (かみや おさむ) - Osamu Kamiya  
> Stiles – 七里月 霊覚 (しちりのつき さとし) – Satoshi Shichirinotsuki (His given name is wonky so I'll leave it at that for now. If you can read kanji, you'll know Satoshi is not the usual reading.)  
> Scott – 武蔵 蘇平 (むさし そへい) - Sohei Musashi  
> Allison – 白銀 貴香 (しろがね よしか) - Yoshika Shirogane  
> Beacon Hills – 狼煙丘 (のろしおか) – Noroshioka  
> I generally chose names based on meaning rather than pronunciation (Stilinski being an obvious exception). Some names didn't translate well, for example, Scott, which I've fudged by using the first character of the Chinese name for Scotland (Japanese doesn't appear to use kanji for Scotland), which is problematic because it's the same character that Japan uses to refer to the former Soviet republic.
> 
> Linguistic fun fact: the kanji for beacon is wolf smoke, which is either due to the fact that people would burn wolf dung to create smoke signals or because the wolf was highly regarded by the invading soldiers from the west during the Tang dynasty, thus the smoke would warn of the coming of "wolves".
> 
> I'll tag more characters as they appear.


End file.
